


The Date Date

by Soak



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: But is it underage just because americans are prudes?, F/M, Fluff, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:20:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23628331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soak/pseuds/Soak
Summary: It's been a few days since the battle. Callum and Rayla decide to get out of the Spire for a bit, but some friendly strangers help elevate that.-- Or --Callum gets advice on romance and goofs his way through it.
Relationships: Callum/Rayla (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 76





	The Date Date

**Author's Note:**

> There wasn't any reason or idea behind this, I guess.

An elbow poked out on his way by, catching him in the ribs.

"Sneaking out to see the festivities, are you?" The baritone voice came from the silhouette next to him, backlit by one of the many campfires here at the base of the Spire. His voice was difficult to find, amongst the constant shouting, music, and singing. "Can't say I blame you, perhaps even here in Xadia they've heard of Durani hospitality. Care to join us for a moment?"

Callum fidgeted with his hands. He hadn't mean to get too close the their camp, but curiosity kept drawing him in. There were many, many tales about the colorful inhabitants of Duran, who lived in the present better than anyone. The first night of parties had been expected, a pleasant backdrop to their own further up the Spire. The second was amusing. Here on the fourth night since the battle, he was beginning to wonder if the legends were true. 

"Uh, sure. For a few minutes, I guess." He turned on his heel and walked beside this friendly stranger, coming into the firelight. Six other soldiers shifted their eyes to him, in varying states of eating, drinking, or talking. Perhaps it was the glow, but the stereotype of how "they make 'em bigger in Duran" seemed more than a little true. Man or woman, it felt like each towered above him--sitting down, no less--their deep blue robes failing to hide broad shoulders and powerful arms. 

One mammoth hand clasped him on the shoulder, the other sticking out to him. Callum glanced up. The man had a thick mop of raven hair, the sides tied back. His harsh cheekbones and a heavy jawline were offset by kinder eyes and a gigantic smile. "The name's Darius, and these absolute fools are some of my best friends from back home." 

"Callum. Pleased to meet y-" He gasped as their handshake threatened to crush fingers. One by one, the others called out to him, offering their names and rebuttals alike. Cheery and flushed, slightly hanging on the ends of their words, he was beginning to realize how deep into the night the soldiers were.

A woman across the fire finished her mug and thumped it down. Nearly as tall as Darius, her mahogany hair fell below her shoulders in loose braids. Her dark eyes reflected the flames. "Oh, we know who you are, magicky boy. Not that we're complaining, but what brings you out here? Don't you got some dragon business to attend to?"

"Oh me? No, just..." he gestured vaguely with his hands, "out for some fresh air. Gets real stuffy up there. Too many people around, that sort of... y'know." Even his voice felt small and fragile around them. 

She raised her eyebrows. "Of _course_. Top of a giant mountain, with the thin air that's too stuffy. Just, hmm, looking for some privacy, maybe?" Her eyes scrunched to match her wry smile, embers crackling up ominously between the two of them. "Say, where's that elf friend of yours?"

Heat crept up along the back of his neck, and his mouth went dry as he fumbled for a response. Darius waved a hand at her. "Oh ignore Pelia, she's the worst of the lot. Besides, I remember a certain young lady creeping away from a solstice festival, not so different from this." 

"Yeah well it didn't matter anyway, since you were a terrible date!" She laughed and tossed the last dregs of her mug at him, which only fell into the fire that then flared. "We sat in that meadow all night and not _once_ you picked up on anything. Got us a picnic, put my head on your shoulder, told you I liked your hands; you hardly had to do anything right, and guess what!?" Her voice shifted deeper, in a poor imitation, "Thanks. My Pa's been having me do a lot of plowing lately." She groaned loudly into her hands as the rest of the group howled.

Callum wanted to recede back into the darkness.

Darius bowed with a flourish, or as best he could. "And now you have me to thank for that delightful story." He turned to the mage and put a hand on his shoulder. "See, don't let her get in your head. Us Durani might be the best lovers in all the Pentarchy, and well, even we can be a little thick from time to time. There's no reason to be ashamed, we've all done this move before."

Callum waved his hands in front of him. "Move? No no, we just wanted some space, that's all! Absolutely no, uh, _moves_ going on!"

Pelia started to pipe up another tease before Darius shot her a look. "Ah, I see. Well either way, us lot owe you a small thanks, which is why I called you over in the first place." He looked to a short, blocky teenager beside him, maybe only a few years older than Callum. "Cyril, think you can find this man something to cheer with us?"

Callum waved his hands dismissively. "Oh, me? Nooo. No I should be thanking you all, for saving our butts and everything."

Pelia found her moment to chime in. "I'm okay with that. 'Sides, I don't know if we got anything kid-friendly to drink around here."

A surprising burst of indignation rose from that. "Well I don't know if-"

"If he can handle bolts of _actual_ lightning, I think he can handle a small sip," Darius cut in. He took a mug and offered it. "Only if you want to, otherwise we'll just cheer your name here and now. Callum! The Carrier and Deliverer, ah, of Dragons!" 

Certainly not. Besides, he had been tempted to take a few experimental tastes of wine before, when nobody was looking. "Oh... sure, why not?" He took the mug, chuckling to himself, and looked down. There was only a small amount of clear liquid, no more than a mouthful. How bad could it be? 

They all stood and raised their drinks, Callum sheepishly mimicking them. Darius stepped forward. "To Callum: good fortune and health!" A chorus from the others replied, with cheers following up from other campfires. The cries rippled outward, each group of merrymakers turning their heads and raising their cups. The sky mage managed a small smile as he tipped his mug back.

No. Nope. Immediately, instinctually, he regretted it. How can something burn and be cold at the same time? Fighting back a choke, he squinted his eyes and tried to get it down as quickly as possible. His body revolted the whole way. And yet the ashy burning lingered, deep in his throat, no matter what he tried. He watched as Darius handed him another mug, this time fuller, a faint knowing smile on his lips.

"Wash it down with-"

Sweet relief. Sweet cranberry-flavored relief. The burning lingered, but so faintly now. The world alighted. When he brought the mug back down, Darius was still there with that smile, softer this time. "I forget you Katolis folk prefer wines and ales. Sorry about that." 

"It's- uh. No it's fine, really. Wow." Callum ran his hands down his face. "That was, uh, not what I was expecting, that's all."

"Hah! It never is. But, if you would, allow us to give you a little... repayment for the trouble." He waved off Callum's attempt to decline. "A Durani never gives food away for a wrong reason. We kept you from your lady friend tonight, so we'll make it up to you. Cyril, do we have any of those fletching baskets left? Let's send the lad off with the best Saint-Rochelle has to offer!"

The group cheered again, flashing him smiles all around. He'd heard about it before, but witnessing the trademark Durani generosity first-hand was admittedly... nice. Cyril pulled out a deep wicker basket, dragging out a sack from further in the darkness. Golden halves of bread, smoked cheeses, fruits and berries--all being fished out and arranged neatly. 

"Here, magic boy, take this." Pelia reached behind her and pulled out a neatly-folded blanket, deep blue like their outfits. She passed it along the circle towards him. "Darius hasn't had a problem sharing the whole way here, figure you might put this to better use." She thankfully ignored Callum's flushed cheeks as he took it. "So, what are you gonna do when you find her?"

"What do you mean?" Callum asked, surprised how quickly the words jumped out of his mouth. He was beginning to feel oddly warm, now that he thought about it.

"Y'know, the big entrance. Don't tell me you Katolians are too uptight to make a little flourish now and then." She pressed her hands together. "Nothing wrong with being sweet to someone you're sweet on."

"But, I mean, we're already... a thing, you know?"

"Psshh, and? Don't tell me you thought the fireworks have to stop now that you're both together." She breathed in and smiled. "Think of it this way, they only get to get bigger from here. Let me help. What does she like?"

That was... a good question. Well, sort of. Rayla liked exploring, dumb banter, doing impersonations--sure, that he knew. But, what she found _romantic_? He was stumped. There was still a lot to figure out, but he had some guesses.

"She likes, uh, an adventure?" Callum shrugged.

Pelia rolled her eyes. "Oh right, yes--you two did _just_ have one big one didn't you? Fine, let me think." She peered out around them. "I figure there's bound to be some spots around here with a pretty view. Don't just sit down where you find her. Take her by the hand, find somewhere nice and peaceful. A little secluded, maybe?" She waggled her eyebrows at that.

"Ignore that last part," Darius interjected. "Well, I mean, or not. It's up to you. Just don't let her make you think it's the only option."

"Did it to you pretty easily," Pelia hit back with a giggle. A few others snickered as well.

Perhaps it was the fire, but Darius seemed a bit rosier as he pushed on. "Doesn't always have to be a huge gesture. She's into you for a reason, eh? Relax, slow down. If she's looking at you, and you're looking at her, don't get all fidgety and blurt out something to cut the silence. Smile, show her how much she means to you--without words. You know?"

"I... I think so?" Again, some pleasant warmth smoothed over any anxiety that might've threatened to crop up. It did sound nice, if he allowed himself to imagine it. 

"But don't stare too much," Pelia added. She noticed the confused look on his face, and her voice softened. "Don't worry, you'll get a feel for it. She sounds like a lucky girl."

"I'm sure she is." Darius handed him the basket, which, true to their word, _did_ look like the best they had to offer. "Now leave us old fools, you got a date! And don't listen to whatever advice these other fogies try to tell you, it's all rubbish!" At that, the others immediately piped up, with both retorts and tips of their own.

\--

Five minutes later, with the fires diminishing behind him, Callum organized the notes running through his head: Hold her hands, or carry her away in his arms. Use a nickname, or let her pick one out first. Let her rest her head on his shoulder, or rest his on hers. Compliment her looks, but not too much. Don't be afraid to tease her, but also not too often. There was a litany of do's and don't's, often running headlong into each other.

He sighed and switched the basket to his other hand. She said she'd meet him somewhere near-

"Took ye long enough."

Callum jumped, a couple errant fruit flying into the night. He looked around, but couldn't find her anywhere.

"Down here, ye big dummy." Truthfully enough, he found her lying in the grass a couple feet away. She was staring up at the sky, a grin bright across her face. "I could hear ye stomping for a full minute now. Ye sure Opeli didn't notice ye sneak away?"

"I mean, I think we would've known by now if she found out. Sorren _did_ promise he'd cover for us." He offered his hand and she took it, helping her upright. "Besides, I can be pretty stealthy on my own when I need to be." 

"Very," she agreed dryly, then pointed towards the basket. "What's that?"

"Oh, this? It was a present. I got, uh... held up talking to some very nice Durani, so they gave it to me."

"Right, I see. Why find me when you can chat up total strangers and make off with gigantic proportions of food!" she ranted as she waved her arms at the basket. "Makes sense. A very human thing to do, if ye ask me."

Perhaps some other time he might've been a little hesitant, a little stung. Not now though. He felt light--floaty, even. There was a giddiness he didn't know was hiding, roaring to the surface as the quiet came between them. He took her hand. "Come on."

"And where exactly are we going?" She kept pace with his slow, wandering gait, as they meandered further out into the fields. Pale moonlight took over from the warm campfires. "Hello? Have ye gone a bit daft?"

He paused and turned to her, trying to cling to his advice. He squeezed her hand and held her gaze for a moment, offering a shy smile. Slowly, the frustration crinkled up around her eyes softened. A moment more. And then another. Her nascent smile began to fade as her head tilted in confusion. Crap! He shook himself, trying to regain his composure. "I'll know it when I see it," he offered at last.

"Oh really? Ye looked a bit blind there to me." A small, nervy chuckle trailed behind her words.

His face soured playfully. "Yeah, well, I was blinded by you, and just how- ah... Y'know you, well..." He paused, not sure what to say, and resorted to waving his basket-hand as best he could at her. She shot back raised, expectant, dangerous eyebrows. He panicked and his words came out in a tangled lurch, "Beautif-uh-gorgeous you are. And everything."

Rayla's grin deepened and her eyes closed shut, freezing in her tracks. It began as a few harsh snickers, followed by a roaring belly-laugh. She put her free hand up to cover her face, leaning into him. "Oh, wow, bravo! My my, that was-" she had to stop as another laughing fit took over, her giggles echoing into the sky. Callum stood there, stunned, grinning like an idiot. Eventually the peals gave out, though she still trembled, pressed up against his shoulder. She kept her face buried in his jacket for a moment longer, and slowly let out one long exhale. Then, rising up, she kissed him on the cheek and patted his arm, a wide smile plastered on her face. "Yer funny."

"Maybe." He looked around them. The gibbous moon was high in the sky, gilding the soft, rolling hills before them in silver, while a breeze made the grass hush with the gentle hum of crickets underneath. An overgrown boulder rested nearby, large enough to keep them out of the wind. They stood in silence for a few heartbeats. "Right here is good."

"Okay." Her voice was more delicate as she followed him, though she let go of his hand. "Let me help ye with that."

"No no, I got it," he said as he laid out the blanket beside the stone. "You just relax and I'll get everything ready. Now where were those?" Callum asked out loud as he began rummaging through the basket.

Rayla gave him a quizzical look as she nevertheless dropped to the ground, leaning back against her elbows. The moments passed slowly, her eyes remaining on him as he worked. The wind and grass billowed like a long breath in. "Callum," she began, her words low and slow and honeyed, "is this a date?"

"Well... I guess so?" He fell back beside her, placing down a small trayful of berries. "Getting away from everyone tonight was your idea, though. Why are you asking me?"

"Nae, I mean..." Rayla cast her eyes to the blanket beneath them, pursing her lips. She fidgeted with his scarf. "I mean all this ye've done. The picnic, the sights, the whole lot. Is this..." she pulled at the wool, "...a _date_ date?"

He found himself caught on her gaze as she looked back up, her trademark coy smirks gone. Her hand fell from his scarf and filled into his. Those amethyst eyes, always alive with energy, were still--waiting, wondering. The realization fell over him. This was Rayla; no guards up, no jokes. His floatiness came tumbling down. As the seconds slid by, something deep within told him this was good. Another wondered otherwise.

"Oh, uh..."

She exhaled slightly. Perhaps it was the moonlight, but he noticed her begin to deflate quietly, slowly--her head sinking lower and eyebrows tilting downward. The small, skittering changes were threatening to build. Her eyes remained on him still--waiting, hoping. 

He tried the opposite. Edges of his lips turned upward, pushing his cheeks higher, bringing the corners of his eyes a bit closer. He squeezed her hand.

"Yeah."

Her expression livened up again, differently this time. No snarky grins, no mischievous glint in her eyes. He understood. Joy, warmth, love--they glowed brightly for him to see. He hoped he looked the same. He felt like he did.

Rayla leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on his lips, letting it linger for a moment. Breaking away lightly, she kept her forehead pressed against his, eyes closed. She hummed deeply as she exhaled. "Thanks. This is nice."

\--

They held there for a time as the night sailed onward. Lying on their sides, touching hands, faces, and lips, letting the warmth run over like cats basking in the sun. She smelled like pine and frosty mornings, stark but comforting all the same. Her hair danced over his hands as he ran them through. The light callouses on her palms tickled as they worked over shoulder. He knew all these things, but tonight it felt like he was learning it all over again.

Eventually, wordlessly, they pulled up and sat side by side. Rayla rested her head on his shoulder. "Ye gonna share those sometime?" she asked, nodding at the tray of berries he still sat between them. "This some kind of human fruit?"

"Strawberries. They're my favorite." He picked one up as another Durani tip popped into his brain. A quick glance over to her revealed warm eyes looking back. His heart flew into his throat as he considered it, and the floaty giddiness urged him onward. Gingerly, he brought it up to her face for her. 

"Oh," she murmured softly, taken aback, a blush running hot up her cheeks. "Okay." She took a bite and, pondering the fruit for a moment, hummed appreciatively. He smiled back. Nestling further against him, she ran her fingertips up and down his arm, as the two of them whittled down the remaining strawberries. The grass rose and fell in soft whooshes. As he finished the last one, she let out a sigh--warm but laced with a hint of... worry? Apprehension? He couldn't figure out what it was.

She shifted to sit up higher, staring out into the silver meadow. Her tone started off slow and tentative. "No that I mind, but where'd all _this_ come from? I knew ye could be a big cute softie, with all those giant speeches about how am--" mimicking his voice "--'beautiful and smart and amazing'. Which are wonderful and everything, absolutely. But this stuff, the _quiet_ stuff, it's different y'know? I didn't know ye had it in ye to be so- ah, oh moon above..." She took a moment to work the sound of the word out in her mouth. Her gaze returned to him, again with the openness, the shields down--though lighter this time. "...romantic."

A weird, nervy sensation rose in his gut. "I- I didn't really either. I mean, I never really thought about it." He paused, and then his words came out quicker, "Well, okay, not like I _never_ thought of doing something like this--ah, with you of course--but I never knew what to do, so I'm just kind of, uh... trying it out?" He paused to let out a quick breath he didn't know was there. "Sorry. I can stop, if you want."

She ran a hand through his hair. "Nae. Like I said, it's nice. Just, y'know, maybe slow it down a wee bit?" Rayla watched the slight frown fall over him. "Ach, sorry, am no good at words. It really _is_ nice. I promise. This might be the sweetest thing anyone's done for me--besides catching me in the air and soaring off into sky, 'course." She let things go silent, starting to rub small circles in the back of his hand. Her eyes found the floor again, her voice smaller. "I can do that. The heart-burstin-out-of-yer-chest, tons of adrenaline, running on instinct; I can do that stuff. I think. But the soft, dreamy, feely things?" Her cheeks turned rosy, her fingers returning to play nervously with his scarf. "They're really, really nice, just never had much time for them before, y'know? It's... new. Am no asking ye to stop, but maybe... let me catch up?"

A tinge of disappointment still crept up on him, but seeing Rayla like this, Callum did his best to crush it into dust. "Okay, I can do that." He smiled as she looked back up at him. "If I ever get too mushy, just punch me in the shoulder or something."

She beamed back with one of her own, kissed his cheek, then knocked him with the softest hit she could. "Thanks, ye big goof." She leaned forward and dragged the basket closer to them. "All right. I figure if am gonna be with a human, gotta understand what all the fuss is over yer food. I mean, just look at it! This could keep us fed for a week!" She pulled out a half loaf of bread that threatened to eclipse her head. "Is it all just one big stomach in ye?"

He laughed, fishing out a pear and a soft wedge of cheese, and tried to explain through a mouthful of the two, "The Durani are, well, different. They're all about living in the present, so lots of parties, food, and music, that kind of stuff. They like being generous, and since they grow most of our food, well it's a pretty universal gift." He took another bite from each and then offered them to her. "These taste great together."

She pondered them for a heartbeat, but took them anyway and tried it. Her expression brightened as she chewed. "Okay, fair enough, ye might be onto something. But why so much?" She placed the food down on the tray, leaning forward to the basket again and rummaging through. "There's enough for ten people, honestly. Three types of cheese, more of these fruits--what do ya call 'em?"

"Pears."

"Ha! What a silly name. Berries, cheese, fruit, bread, more fruit, cheese, smaller bread--I mean this is just wasteful if you ask me." Rayla paused and then dug into one of the corners. "Hey, what's this? There's a note in here." She spread out a tiny roll of parchment. "'To Callum: I think we found a drink more to your liking.' Huh. I guess they mean this thing it was on?"

A leather bag came out of the basket, stoppered at the top. Rayla pulled it off and took a curious sniff, earning a scrunched-up face. Callum reached out a hand. "Can I see that?" She shrugged and handed it over. He inspected it from top to bottom. It was maybe only a third full, thankfully.

She fell back onto her elbows. "What is that? Do ye really drink it?"

"I'm... pretty sure it's wine." He shook the wineskin, listening as it sloshed around.

"Wine?" Her face curled up in disbelief. "That's no wine. Wine smells sweet--makes you feel nice and light and tingly. I think that'll make you keel over."

"Look, I know what wine--all right, human wine--is supposed to smell like. Seems close enough to me." She still stared at him incredulously, prompting a swell of boldness to rise up in his chest. "I'm serious. Fine, I'll prove it." He tipped it back, taking a small sip from the bag.

Gross. Better than the other drink, but still a no. There were tinges of things he liked, fleeting moments of flavor, all paved over by a heavy, woody dryness. He gulped it down nevertheless, hoping his displeasure didn't show on his face too easily. "Yup, that sure is wine all right. Just like I--" he stopped to suck in a breath "--remember." 

"Oh aye," she agreed sarcastically, "looks like it goes down right easy. You big dumb human, why bother with that?" She put her hand up and touched his cheek.

"I wanted to know, I guess?" He wore his grimace openly. "People drink it all the time. I've heard it does the same thing, you know, make people feel nice and happy. I was hoping it tasted more like you said, though." He reached for the half-eaten pear, hoping it'd chase the bad taste out of his mouth.

Rayla took the wineskin away from him. "I don't know why you'd think that. Moonberry wine is famous. This is--" she took a sniff, and then another "--okay, I suppose I can tell there's something similar about it. But still, why's it have to be so strong?" 

"We make our wine with grapes," Callum offered, mouth full, "maybe that has something to do with it?"

"Maybe." She rubbed her chin, eyeing the top of the bota bag, and smelled it again. She let out a huff, pressing her mouth into a thin line. "Ah, what the hell." She took a swig, and it was clearly easier for her than for him. She smacked her lips together, holding the wineskin out in front of her, the gears plainly churning in her head. "Different. _Very_ different. It's no bad, though." She took another experimental taste. "Huh, color me impressed."

He laid back beside her. "So, they let you drink wine in Xadia?"

Her nose scrunched up, puzzled. "Uh, yeah? Not the weans, of course--but for special occasions or holidays, everybody else is welcome to some. Just, y'know, another something to help celebrate. Why? Is it different among humans?"

"At least in Katolis, yeah. There's a big law about it, nobody's supposed to drink until they're twenty."

"Twenty?!" Rayla shied back in disbelief. "But ye could have a home and family of yer own before then! So what, ye just go through a big chunk of life watching everyone else have all the fun? Honestly, yer all so weird." Her eyes rolled as she took another sip. She still rubbed her lips together at the exotic flavor.

"Well, I know some of the other kingdoms have different feelings about it. The Durani probably treat it more like you do. Besides, it's not like _everybody_ follows the rules."

"Oh, so is that what we're doing, hm?" Mischief gleamed in her narrowed eyes. "Stealing me away into the night--" she put a dramatic hand up to her forehead "--and breaking the law? My my Callum, I didn't know ye had it in ye."

He blushed, tapping his fingers together. "Okay but- but isn't that _technically_ what happened the first time we met? Yeah there was the egg and all, but still-"

Her shoulder knocked into his. "Oh hush, yer no fun." She took a deeper pull from the bota. "Honestly, this is pretty good. Warms ye right up, too."

"Well, I'm glad at least someone likes it." He chuckled, a hint of nervousness lingering as he watched her. "Just don't overdo it, okay?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Well that's a little ironic, seeing as this whole basket is 'overdoing it' if ye ask me. Besides, there's not much in here. In _my_ experience, it usually takes a few glasses of wine to loosen things up. There's maybe two in this thing." She took another sip. "More or less."

"I don't know. The Durani did a toast before I left, and there was just a little bit in there." He tried to remember the sensations that by now had mostly faded. "It was... odd. It didn't taste like this, though."

Rayla only offered a shrug to that. "Well, don't worry yer pretty little head about me. Us elves are masters of moderation." She smiled to herself, though warmer, bigger than usual. He inched nearer, peering at her closely. Her cheeks were a shade rosy, her eyelids drooped slightly. Her grin deepened. "Hmm, see something ye like?" she asked, low and suggestively.

He pulled back, embarrassed chills digging into his gut. "What? No--" his brain caught up a second behind "--I mean- I mean yes! Of course, yes!" His hand waved in a circle at her. "Every bit of you!"

She sucked in a breath as her eyes widened. " _Every_ bit? Oh wow Callum-"

Heat shot up the back of his neck, reaching the tips of his ears. His breath caught in his throat. "Wait not- not like that-"

"Oh, so ye don't think of me _that_ way?" she countered, though the corners of her lips started turning upwards.

"What? No, no no I do!" The words tumbled out of his mouth, the world moving too fast to steer. "Why- why wouldn't I? I think of you like that a lot!"

"A lot?" At this her surprise was more genuine--she snorted and buried her face into her hands. They couldn't hide the smile lines, though. "That's, er, impressive?"

He wanted to sink into the earth. Instead, he settled on pulling his knees in close. "No no, that's not what I meant to say! I mean- I mean to say, uh, I mean..." He froze up, the heat becoming unbearable, paralyzing. Callum groaned and pulled up his scarf, burying his face in it, squeezing his eyes shut. His next question came out limply, tired, muffled. "What- what do you want me to say?" 

The snickering he couldn't hear burst into long, deep laughs. He heard her shuffle over, felt her arms fold around him, burying her forehead into his neck. "Oh ye cutie, am so sorry!" She kept giggling into his jacket. "That was maybe a bit more teasing than I was looking for. It's okay, I promise." Her hands rubbed up and down his back. Lips kissed his forehead as he stayed silent. "Hey, it's okay. I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel the same way. Surprised ye haven't caught _me_ staring before."

His cheeks flared up again, but in a nicer way this time. He opened his eyes.

"There we go." Her smile was infectious and warm, just inches away. "Aw, look at ye! All cuddled up in yer scarf- ach, yer just too darned cute!" She pressed both hands onto his cheeks, grabbing his face. "Why!? Why are ye such a big stinkin' cutie?!" She planted a couple quick kisses on his nose and eyebrows.

He smiled, letting the scarf drift back down. He tried to unfold himself, but Rayla pressed herself up closer to keep him there.

"Oh nae, am no letting ye get away that easily. Yer too precious! I must wrap ye up and protect ye." She retrieved the wineskin as she hugged him defensively.

"Fine," he grumbled, "but put that away. I think you've had enough."

"Oh? Have I? Feeling a little left out are we?" 

"No, I'm just worried that you don't realize how... far along you are."

"Am perfectly fine. More than fine, actually!" She beamed and nuzzled her nose into his cheek. "It's just a bit of wine, Callum. I know what am doing."

He grabbed at the wineskin, just missing as she pulled it out of the way. "Moonberry wine, maybe." He tried again and failed. "This is human wine, Rayla. What if, I don't know, elves are a little too _delicate_ for it?"

Her eyes narrowed, her smile turning dangerous. "Oh, I see, is that what ye think?" She hucked the wineskin away, well beyond the confines of the blanket. "Fine then." She grabbed onto his shoulders and tried to wrestle him to the ground.

"Rayla!" he yelped, just managing to keep his posture. He sunk defensively, trying to playfully bat her hands away. "What was that for?"

"Ye think we're delicate, hm?" Her eyebrows rose in a challenge as she grappled him again. "Well come on then, prove it to me."

That wasn't happening. It had been clear from the moment they met that she was stronger than him. He gulped. Her attempts to jostle him around were growing harder and harder to rebound from. She had gotten pressed in against his chest, one hand keeping his wrist at bay and the other wrapped around his back. His balance was slipping. "Hey! Come on, cut it out!" He couldn't help a surprised chuckle escape his lips.

"Of course, I'd be happy to! Once ye get me to the ground, ye numpty."

She was climbing over him, stretching him out and pinning his arms back. As any hope for victory faded in his mind, an idea came to the surface. He probably still wouldn't win, but just maybe he'd surprise her a bit.

Her expression glowed as his limbs weakened, his protests growing quiet. "Not so delicate now, are w-ugh!"

He bucked one knee up, trying to put her off-balance. As she tilted over, he rolled his whole body with it, spiraling the two of them across the blanket. The tray flew somewhere off into the grass. The world turned into a swirl of dim colors. He heard her laughing as they spun, and continued to giggle as they eased to a stop. 

She picked her head up, peering down at him as she was still on top. " _Well_ , that was a much better go than I thought!" She leaned in for a kiss, wrapping his soul up in warm, fuzzy feelings- "Ach- what's this?" She reached behind, grabbing and pulling his hand up to the small of her back. "Watch where ye _leave yer hands_ , mister."

He could feel the heat radiating off her face. Both their faces. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean-"

She stopped him with a kiss, and the glint in her eyes threatened more. "Shush. Talking time is over."

From the moment they started, Callum could tell this was different. Her hands ran up his face and arms, pressing into him tighter. Her breaths were heavier, in long, deep huffs from her nose. The pace she set for their lips and tongues was faster. To him, she felt _hungry_ , and if he was honest with himself, maybe he was a little too. A swell of pride rose in his chest, coming to understand how he could make her feel.

Some amount of time was moving by. He had no real idea. Instead, he ventured to put both his hands on her hips, pulling her in closer. He was rewarded with a long exhale, one that he could feel run down his chin and over his neck. She pushed one hand through his hair while the other stroked the side of his chest. He rubbed up her spine, to the base of her neck and down again. She answered with a deep hum in the back of her throat. 

There was a low need in the background of it all, one that he was realizing the power of, the fuel of; one that he was cautious of getting too close to. Rayla certainly was making it difficult, though. She was pushing up against him constantly, pressing in ways that would've made him beet red a few months ago. There were moments he couldn't figure out what to do with his hands, losing track of them, skimming into terrain he wasn't sure about, before reeling them back in. Exciting, but dangerous. Exceedingly dangerous, as time flowed on. He didn't want to think about the embarrassment that awaited if this kept going on for too much longer, as much as he enjoyed it.

Mercifully, they--through unspoken agreement--wound down. Slowly. Hands lingered longer, then stilled. The kissing became kisses, lighter pecks on lips, cheeks, and noses. Eventually it was just the two of them breathing contentedly, foreheads pressed together and eyes closed, one finger from Rayla rubbing along his jaw. The stayed like that for a while as the crickets played for them.

"I love you." He wasn't sure why the words came out, but he wouldn't take them back for anything. He opened his eyes to meet hers.

"I love ye too." She grabbed and held him as best she could, showering more pecks on his nose and the corner of his lips. They were slow and tender, fading out like the wavy breaths of grass in the wind. She sighed and settled her head along his collarbone, closing her eyes. Things went still for a few heartbeats, though he could feel the energy coiling up in her. Then, she kicked her legs up and down in a flutter of glee, squeezing him with all her might. "This was so much fun! I never would've thought my first _date_ date--" he could feel the smile bloom on her face "--would go like this. The moon above, it really has everything doesn't it?"

He grinned, rubbing circles into her back, staring up into the stars. "If you say so."

"It does! It... This is really special, Callum. So... thank ye." She eased her hold on him, shifting to rest more comfortably. A small, adorable yawn came out. "Ach, maybe ye were right though, maybe the human wine was a bad idea. It's got me absolutely knackered now."

"It's okay. Why don't you rest for a bit? I can stay up." He wasn't ready to leave this moment, he discovered.

"Are ye sure?" She didn't even try to pick her head up, instead electing to push her nose into his neck. Her words came out slow and cozy. "Am sure I can make it back up the Spire."

"Yeah, I'm sure." He started running his hands through her hair, slow and steady. He could feel her breathing start to even out, in long, peaceful strides. "I'll be here when you wake up."

He waited for a while for a response, perhaps something sappy and sweet she might say. As her breathing mellowed out completely, he began to realize none would come. That was fine, he decided. He kept combing one hand through her hair as he stared up at the stars. The other touched her back, marveling at how its rise and fall matched the snoozes that tickled his neck. The grass danced as the crickets played.

He closed his eyes, trying to sear the memory in his mind forever. He hoped it worked.

**Author's Note:**

> Still don't understand how time or accents work. Sorry, y'all. Hope it was nice.


End file.
